


lose my breath

by witchplease



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: A Dash of Food Kink, A Pinch of Polyamory, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Feeding, Fluff, Food Kink, Kink Exploration, Slice of Life, Witchy Twyla, white wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:41:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21794722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchplease/pseuds/witchplease
Summary: Stevie is skeptical when she comes home to find Twyla cooking a large and complicated meal.“When you said that you had something special planned for us, I thought you meant you got takeout that wasn’t from the cafe! I didn’t know you would be … cooking!”Twyla turned away from the stove and put her hand on her hip, flashing Stevie a teasing smile. “I do know how to cook, you know.”
Relationships: Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands
Comments: 14
Kudos: 31
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	lose my breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [olive2read](https://archiveofourown.org/users/olive2read/gifts).



> Olive2read, thank you for the lovely assignment! You had so many great ideas and I was really excited to include a few of them! This almost counts as a drabble, I wanted to write something domestic and slice-of-life. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 
> 
> Title is from “i wanna be your girlfriend” by girl in red.

Stevie made her way up the long flight of stairs, her bag jostling the back of her thighs uncomfortably. She held the bottle of white wine carefully in the crook of her arm as she fumbled for her keys to Twyla’s apartment. “Precious cargo,” she muttered distractedly under her breath, still frustrated at David for not giving her the usual discount. 

She paused, her keys clinking quietly in her hand, as she realized there was the smell of cooking garlic and fragrant spices wafting from the apartment. What on earth was going on? Stevie unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Twyla?” she called down the hallway. “Are you cook-”

“Don’t move!” she heard Twyla cry from the kitchen. Stevie froze, her curiosity mounting. 

Twyla shuffled into the hallway, wearing a flowery apron with ruffles that Stevie had never seen before. Underneath the apron, Twyla was wearing her usual house clothes which consisted of a worn, baggy t-shirt and yoga pants. On her feet were fluffy mismatched socks and her auburn hair was plaited into a messy braid. They’d been officially dating for about three months now, not that Stevie was keeping track or anything, and she would still have these moments of astonishment and gratitude that this beautiful woman was part of her life in this new way. 

In Twyla’s hand was a smoking bundle of rosemary and now Stevie understood her instructions. Twyla kissed Stevie on the cheek and started waving the smoke over her with her hand. “I just cleansed the whole apartment today,” she explained. Stevie smiled at her and stood patiently until Twyla determined she was appropriately free of negative energy and able to enter.

“How was your day?” Twyla asked as she bustled back into the kitchen, stopping in the living room to deposit the bundle of rosemary on the altar. 

Stevie followed her and looked around in bewilderment at what she saw. “Are you cooking?”

Twyla looked up from where she was stirring something in a huge oversized pan. “Yeah!” 

Placing the wine bottle and her bag onto the kitchen table, Stevie walked over to the stove and peered over Twyla’s shoulder curiously. “What is it?”

“Well, this is going to be a tofu basil stir fry,” Twyla said. She was carefully flipping the small cubes of browning tofu that were sizzling in the oil. “And those are potstickers!” 

Stevie looked over at the counter where Twyla pointed and her jaw dropped. Twyla made potstickers?! “You made potstickers?!”

Twyla beamed with pride and Stevie was very careful to make sure her expression was communicating a pleasant surprise instead of the skeptical dread that she was actually feeling. “When you said that you had something special planned for us, I thought you meant you got takeout that _wasn’t_ from the cafe! I didn’t know you would be … cooking!”

Twyla turned away from the stove and put her hand on her hip, flashing Stevie a teasing smile. “I do know how to cook, you know.”

Stevie held up in her hands in defense and said quickly, “Oh, of course! I just wasn’t expecting it, is all.” She stepped closer to Twyla and wrapped her arms around her waist, settling her chin into the crook of her neck. Twyla laughed and continued tending to the tofu, her free hand resting on Stevie’s arm across her stomach. 

“Do you want to put in the veggies?” Twyla asked, gesturing to the bowl of chopped peppers and onions and garlic. 

Stevie reached out and tipped them into the large pan with a satisfying sizzle. “It smells so good!”

Twyla hummed in response. “Such a tone of surprise!”

Squeezing her sides and burying her face into Twyla’s hair, Stevie felt like such a dick. “I’m not surprised - it’s… I just -”

“I know you’re probably thinking of the toast incident,” Twyla said, lifting her chin in defense. “But I’m actually a very good cook, I’ll have you know! I just don’t get to very often.”

Stevie pulled Twyla’s braid to the other side of her neck and kissed her shoulder softly. She had to admit, she was indeed thinking of the toast incident from a couple of months ago. The smell of the burnt jam had lingered for weeks. “It’s just… Twy, you put the jam on the bread first and then you put it in the toaster oven…” She started to trail kisses from her jaw to the soft skin behind her ear and down her neck.

“I told you, I was tired that morning!” Twyla exclaimed, her voice pitched dangerously high. “And, really, what about your part in all this, because you were the one who had kept me up all night!”

Stevie bit down lightly on Twyla’s shoulder and laughed. “Ahh, yes, I remember fondly,” she said loftily. “The Night of Seven Orgasms. My proudest achievement.”

Twyla groaned and covered her face with her hand, but Stevie could see her cheeks flushing and her crooked smile. “How was I expected to toast bread under such conditions,” she mumbled into her hand. 

“You’re right, it’s completely unreasonable,” Stevie said seriously. She rubbed her face against the impossibly large ruffles on the strap of Twyla’s brightly colored apron. “I’m loving the apron, Twy, this is a good look.” Twyla huffed and apparently was refusing to dignify Stevie’s compliment with a response. Stevie unwound herself from Twyla and stepped over to inspect the potstickers. As she reached out to grab one, Twyla slapped her hand away and warned, “They’re cooling!” 

So instead Stevie busied herself with uncorking the wine bottle from Rose Apothecary and pouring glasses for the both of them while Twyla talked about her day. On Tuesdays, Twyla works a short shift, but there was plenty that happened over the course of the morning for Stevie to get caught up on. Moira’s latest antics with the Jazzagals, Ronnie’s recent feud with some developer sniffing around and asking questions about permits on rental properties, and then Stevie couldn’t help but ask - “Did you see Alexis? She said she was going to the cafe this morning on her way out.” 

Twyla shot her a look as she added in the sauce to the veggies and began stirring very determinedly. “Yeah, I guess I saw Alexis, like I said it was pretty busy.” She took a long sip of her wine and winced when it made a loud clinking sound as she forcefully set it back on the counter.

Stevie smirked, standing up from her seat at the kitchen table. She slowly walked over to Twyla and rested her hip along the counter. “Oh, so you didn’t see much of her then?”

Twyla’s stirring began a little erratic and some of the sauce spilled over the side of the pan. “Nope,” she said with a very unconvincing air of nonchalance. 

“That’s too bad,” Stevie said slowly, relishing this moment. “Because I was thinking as she left the motel this morning that you’d really enjoy the little blue number she was wearing -”

“It was yellow,” Twyla interrupted, before clapping her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.

Stevie burst out laughing, “I knew it!” Twyla’s face was red and she managed a severe frown for a few moments before she dissolved into giggles. She let Stevie pull her away from the stove and kiss her sweetly on the mouth, her lips twisting into a smile as she kept laughing. Wrapping her arms around Twyla’s neck, Stevie deepened the kiss, her tongue brushing against Twyla’s. Pulling away, she regarded Twyla fondly. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you finally told me about your little crush.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy,” Twyla said wryly, rolling her eyes. “Because I think it was a terrible mistake that I’m going to regret for the rest of my life.” She twisted away from Stevie to turn off the heat on the stove and began pulling bowls from the cabinets. 

“Oh, come on, there’s no harm in it,” Stevie said. “And besides, it’s not like I can’t understand the appeal, who wouldn’t have a crush on Alexis? I mean, not me, obviously because of my history with David that just seems a little too close for comfort…” Stevie trailed off and shuddered dramatically.

“Besides, she’s with Ted,” Twyla said as she washed her hands in the sink. 

“Maybe they have an open relationship thing,” Stevie shrugged. 

Twyla looked at Stevie sharply. “Oh, please.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Stevie couldn’t keep her hands off Twyla, so she stepped in to kiss her temple. “You don’t know until you ask.”

“Anyway!” Twyla hooked an arm around Stevie’s waist and pulled her closer. “Ready to try these potstickers?”

Stevie was suspicious of the sudden change in subject, but, yes, she was very ready to try the potstickers. She reached out, and once again Twyla slapped her hand away. 

“Here, let me,” Twyla said. Keeping her arm snug around Stevie, she used her free hand to pick up a potsticker, dip it in soy sauce, and hold it up to Stevie’s mouth. Stevie arched an eyebrow skeptically, but played along. Biting down, an assortment of flavors burst on to her tongue. The veggie filling was mostly mushrooms and garlic, the savory umami flavors heavy and warm. Stevie loved the biting taste of the ginger paired with the soy sauce. She closed her eyes and hummed as she chewed. “Oh my god, Twy.”

When Stevie opened her eyes, Twyla was looking very pleased with herself. Stevie rolled her head onto Twyla’s shoulder, “Twy, that is so delicious.” 

Twyla smiled out of the corner of her mouth and kissed Stevie’s dark hair on top of her head. “Well, thank you.”

Stevie lifted her head and Twyla offered her the rest of the potsticker. Stevie opened her mouth and Twyla slowly placed it on the flat of her tongue. Twyla lingered and Stevie closed her lips around her fingers, the flavors of the food and of Twyla warm in her mouth. A moan softly escaped the back of her throat as she sucked Twyla’s fingers deeper into her mouth, her tongue lapping the soy sauce that had dripped down her hand. Twyla’s eyes fluttered and her other hand moved to the nape of Stevie’s neck, pressing firmly and encouraging Stevie to take her deeper still. 

Stevie felt flushed and warm with lust. She was so turned on and overwhelmed by Twyla feeding her like this. When Twyla slowly slipped her fingers out of her mouth, she whined quietly at the loss, breathing sharply through her nose. She finally swallowed and Stevie saw the dark, satiated look in Twyla’s eyes. “So, um,” Stevie started, her voice low and broken with arousal. “So, your sudden interest in cooking again wouldn’t have anything to do with that thing we talked about the other night, would it?”

Twyla’s cheeks went pink and her eyes flashed with amusement. “Oh, absolutely. One hundred percent.” Over the weekend, a chill evening in with cozy pajamas, Netflix, and a tub of ice cream had turned into one of the better nights they’d spent together when Stevie hesitantly shared that she had wanted Twyla to feed her for weeks but had been too nervous to ask. Stevie felt a rush of warmth between her legs and her eyes fluttered closed. This was too good to be true. 

She felt Twyla cup her face with her palm and kiss her deeply. Their unique tastes with the flavors of the savory food mingled together and Stevie felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her head was spinning and her lungs were tight. Twyla’s lips curled into a smile against Stevie’s mouth. 

“Okay,” Stevie exhaled, tugging at a ruffle on Twyla’s apron. “You should definitely cook more often.”

Twyla hummed in agreement. “It would be my pleasure.”


End file.
